[ Featuring B ]
Does God know how
You call his name
When you're talking to me
Talking to me that way
Does God look down
And say "well done"
When you're pounding your fist
Pounding your fist into my face
Sundays are made for preachers
Sundays are made for choirs
Sundays are made for singing
Sundays cover up the liars
Does anybody hear me scream?
I'm doing it under my breath
Trying so hard to keep my hands clean
I'm wearing my Sunday dress
But there's a rip and there's a tear
There's a stain and I'm scared
The sober don't go for unholy
Drowning in a dry county
I run too loud
I cut my hair
I make a mess
But it's under my bed with my secrets
Sundays are made for preachers
Sundays are made for choirs
Sundays are made for singing
Yea, Sundays cover up the liars
Does anybody hear me scream?
I'm doing it under my breath
Trying so hard to keep my hands clean
I'm wearing my Sunday dress
But there's a rip and there's a tear
There's a stain and I'm scared
The sober don't go for unholy
Drowning in a dry county
Sundays are made for confessions
We're all sisters and brothers
Sundays won't ever ask questions
But don't forget, don't forget about the others
Does anybody hear me scream?
I'm doing it under my breath
Trying so hard to keep my hands clean
I'm wearing my Sunday dress
But there's a rip and there's a tear
There's a stain and I'm scared
The sober don't go for unholy
Drowning in a dry county
